


Holidays Are for Family

by AgentStannerShipper



Series: tumblr ficlets [33]
Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Christmas, Found Family, M/M, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-18
Updated: 2019-01-17
Packaged: 2019-10-12 00:32:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17457212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgentStannerShipper/pseuds/AgentStannerShipper
Summary: Harry doesn't want Merlin to be alone for the holidays.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompts: “You don’t have to go to all this trouble, you know.” and “You didn’t really think I’d let you spend Christmas alone, did you?”

Merlin ignores the knock when it rings out against his door. Odds are, it’s carol singers, and he has absolutely no interest in entertaining them. They’ll move on if he doesn’t answer.

Except whoever it is doesn’t move on. The knock sounds again after a minute, and then at two minutes, and then at three. When it hits the five-minute mark, Merlin sighs and stands, setting his novel on the coffee table and stretching.

He opens the door to Harry Hart, snow-dusted and beaming. “Surprise!”

Merlin blinks at him. “What are you doing here?”

Harry elbows past him, toeing out of his wet shoes and hanging his coat next to Merlin’s. He brushes a hand back through his hair, the normally tame locks curling wildly, free of the product Harry uses to cement them in place. He has a large shopping bag hanging from the crook of his arm, and the fact that it isn’t designer is throwing Merlin for a loop.

“It’s Christmas eve,” Harry says.

It takes Merlin a moment to remember that Harry is answering his question, although it’s not much of an answer. “I was aware of that,” he says. “That doesn’t explain what you’re doing in my flat.”

Harry makes himself comfortable on the sofa in the living room, although he looks around distastefully, “It’s a bit small. Surely Kingsman pays you well enough to afford a larger place?”

“It’s big enough for me,” Merlin shrugs. He doesn’t need anything fancy, never has. “Besides, I’m hardly home enough to warrant someplace bigger.”

“If you say so,” Harry says. He picks up the book Merlin was reading, “Dickens?”

“A tradition of mine,” Merlin says. “I read it every year.”

Harry looks up at where Merlin is still hovering in the doorway, and pats the couch next to him. “Come on,” he says. “I don’t bite.”

Merlin’s mind flashes to one highly memorable mission where Harry had bitten off the finger of an assailant – Merlin’s not sure Harry had intended to, but it had happened nonetheless – and is somehow not reassured. But he sits down anyway.

“Harry, why-“

“You didn’t really think I’d let you spend Christmas alone, did you?” Harry asks, finally answering Merlin’s question properly. He smiles and picks up the bag by his feet, depositing it on the coffee table. “You said you hadn’t planned anything, so I brought eggnog, some tacky Christmas jumpers, _It’s a Wonderful Life_ , and, as it happens, _A Christmas Carol_. Of course, if you’d rather read your book, I’m sure I can find something to occupy my time with.”

“I thought you were going to see your family?” Merlin asks cautiously.

“I’ll see them on Boxing Day,” Harry says. “I just hated the thought of you, all alone on Christmas, huddled in your cramped little apartment – and it’s worse than I imagined, by the way – gnawing on your frankly atrocious cooking.”

“I was going to order in,” Merlin mumbles.

“And now we can order in together,” Harry says. “I’ll cook something properly tomorrow, but it’s a bit late to pop down to the shop, and I imagine you don’t have much in the way of food here.”

Merlin shakes his head, and then the previous statement catches up with him, “Hang on, tomorrow? Who said anything about tomorrow?”

“I did,” Harry says. “I’m assuming it won’t be too much of a problem if I kip on your sofa? It’s surprisingly comfortable.” He pats the cushion appreciatively.

“You…want to spend Christmas eve and day with me?” Merlin clarifies.

“Of course,” Harry says, and for the first time his confidence wavers, and he looks worried. “I mean, we’re friends, aren’t we? Did you want me to leave?”

“No!” Merlin says, embarrassingly fast. “No,” he repeats calmly. He picks up his book, “I’m almost done here. Why don’t you order something, and then we’ll watch the movie?”

“Only if you put the sweater on.”

Merlin rolls his eyes, “Deal.”

Harry grins and stands up, heading for Merlin’s phone, “The usual place?”

Merlin makes a vague noise affirmative, already absorbed in the final pages of the novel. He vaguely processes Harry ordering their food in the background, and by the time he emerges back into the real world, Harry is clearing the table and setting up food cartons. He’s wearing one of the awful sweaters, and nudges the other one in Merlin’s direction. Merlin puts it on obediently, and Harry slides the VHS into Merlin’s player.

“You don’t have to go to all this trouble, you know,” Merlin says softly as Harry settles next to him on the couch.

“Of course I do,” Harry says, in the voice he uses when there’s no room for argument. “You’re my best friend, Merlin. No one should spend Christmas alone. Least of all someone…” He clears his throat, “Someone so important to me.”

Merlin has never been a huge fan of Christmas. It wasn’t anything special growing up, beyond his father being perhaps a bit more angry than usual at the idea of spending money on presents (a fight Merlin had watched his parents have, hidden at the top of the stairs, year after year). But with the warm weight of Harry next to him on the sofa, a container of his favourite Chinese food in his hand, and the opening credits of _A Christmas Carol_ rolling across the screen, he thinks he could very easily be convinced to like the holiday.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also for the prompt: “You didn’t really think I’d let you spend Christmas alone, did you?”

Most of the staff – those who aren’t being paid handsomely for working on Christmas eve – have long since left by the time Merlin turns out the lights in his office. He frowns when he catches Olivia still bent over her desk, scribbling furiously on a set of blueprints. Merlin raps his knuckles gently against the metal to get her attention, and she looks up, startled. “What’re you still doing here?” he asks. “Don’t you think it’s time you went home?”

She gives half a shrug, and Jesus Christ, she looks so young like this, hesitant and uncertain when she says, “I can stay awhile longer, sir. I don’t mind.” She’s eighteen. Same age he was when he joined Kingsman. He wonders if he looked so young and so tired then, throwing himself into everything with the same vigour that she does, desperate to prove to everyone that he was worth taking a risk on.

“Go home, Olivia,” he says. “It’s Christmas eve.”

“It’s alright,” she says. “There’s really nowhere for me to go.”

It hits Merlin, that of course. She’s eighteen, finally free of the foster system, an adult that Merlin hadn’t so much recruited as she’d handed him a job application. That never happens in this line of work. He hand-picks every single person in his departments. But the fact that she’s now an adult means that she also will be going home to an empty apartment.

“Do you have any friends you could spend the night with?” Merlin asks. She shakes her head, and his heart twists a bit. “Alright,” he says, and walks back into his office. He has a phone call to make.

Less than ten minutes later, he returns, and Olivia looks confused to see him back. “Get your coat,” he tells her.

“Sir?”

“You didn’t really think I’d let you spend Christmas alone, did you?” Merlin asks, and it strikes him as funny that it’s his turn to say the same thing Harry had told him all those years ago. “I just spoke to Harry. He says you’re welcome in our house for the holidays.” She’s one of the few people who knows, one of the few people Merlin actually trusts with that information.

If Olivia had looked surprised before, it’s nothing compared to her expression now. “Sir,” she says, “I-“

“It’s after hours,” Merlin says softly. “You really don’t have to call me that.” If he had his way, he’s not sure he wants her calling him that on the job, but there are lines of professionality, and he’s crossed enough of those as it is, “marrying” one co-worker and practically adopting another. He can’t help it if she reminds him of himself.

“Merlin,” she says, “you don’t have to do this.”

“I really do,” he says. “Harry will have my head if I don’t bring you home with me, and I think that would spoil Christmas, don’t you?” He keeps the words light. He won’t force her if she really doesn’t want to, but he can see that need lurking behind her eyes, that desperation for approval and affection.

“Okay,” she says.

Merlin smiles.

When Merlin opens the door to the flat he shares with Harry, his partner greets them, poking his head in from the kitchen, “I’ll just be a minute.” He reappears a moment later, wearing the Christmas sweater Merlin got him last year and a lacy apron that makes Olivia raise her eyebrows. Harry points a finger at her, “Not one word, young lady. I love this apron, and I shan’t have you mocking it.”

It says “kiss the chef” in pink embroidery, so Merlin does. Harry kisses back, and then shoos Merlin into the other room, smiling brightly at Olivia, “It’s lovely to have you here.”

“It’s lovely to be here,” she says, following him into the kitchen. Tomorrow, Harry will have set up the dining room, but today the meal is simple. It’s a far cry from ordered-in Chinese food, but Merlin doesn’t mind a change in tradition if it means more opportunities to eat Harry’s cooking.

Olivia gradually settles in, relaxing and laughing at Harry’s jokes, even going so far as to tease him back. Merlin dearly hopes “Grandad Galahad” as a nickname for Harry catches on, because even if his partner isn’t that old, the expression on his face when she says it, caught somewhere between irritated and fond, is absolutely beautiful.

Later, while Harry busies himself with loading the DVD for _A Christmas Carol_ into the players, Olivia tells Merlin softly, “Thank you for inviting me.”

Merlin smiles at her, “It’s my pleasure, really. I hated the idea that you wouldn’t have a proper Christmas. You’re family, and Christmas is for family.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Harry says, dropping onto the sofa and cuddling comfortably into Merlin’s side. He tells Olivia, “You’re always welcome to spend the holidays with us. Our door is always open for you.”

“She knows,” Merlin says, poking Harry in the side. “Now shush. The movie is starting.”

He’ll pretend that tears aren’t glistening in the corner of Olivia’s eyes, even as she fights to keep from smiling. He’ll pretend that his throat isn’t a little tight. He presses a kiss to Harry’s temple and squeezes his hand in silent thanks. Harry squeezes back, and Merlin lets himself relax and be absorbed into the movie, surrounded by his family.


End file.
